


can you understand it? (we can't live for the damage)

by noirshitsuji



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: AU, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Chloé Bourgeois Friendship, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending-ish, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied OC death, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Kitty Section, Male OC - Freeform, Mentioned Juleka Couffaine, Post-New York Special, Post-New York Special AU, The Couffaine Family, Unrequited Love, mentioned Anarka Couffaine - Freeform, one-sided Chloé Bourgeois/Sabrina Raincomprix, one-sided Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain Cheng
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:47:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26919826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noirshitsuji/pseuds/noirshitsuji
Summary: –and what was that thing about drowning men and sinking ships? Luka forgets (or tries to, at least, because there’s not much else by way of comfort that he can offer her)–Some days, it doesn’t matter how used you are to dealing with unrequited feelings.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Chloé Bourgeois & Luka Couffaine, Delmar/Sabrina Raincomprix
Kudos: 26





	can you understand it? (we can't live for the damage)

**Author's Note:**

> It's surprising that it took me this long to fit something Matt-Maeson-inspired in, to be honest. Title comes from [Go Easy](https://genius.com/Matt-maeson-go-easy-lyrics) (which doesn't have quite the same theme, but close enough; listen to the [stripped version](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TiTavOqC0eI) for best experience).

Luka finds her smoking in the side-street opposite the bar where Kitty Section’s concert has just finished, the flicker of flame and smoke drawing him in like a moth–

– _ an appropriate analogy, since he is, indeed, blinded by the image of Marinette’s face smiling at Adrien after their set finished and– _

“Hey,” he says, visibly startling the mayor’s daughter out of her reverie. She raises her left arm to clasp her right one, guarding her chest, eyes holding the defiant defensiveness of a wounded animal. He pulls out his own pack of cigarettes nonetheless. “Can I use your lighter?”

She gives him a once-over and straightens up a bit before pulling out a pack from the pocket of her obnoxiously yellow jacket. Everything about her clothes, her hair, her eyes, is stark and bright, as if she’s overcompensating her otherwise ugly – from what he’s heard from the others, at least – attitude–

– _ though isn’t he only thinking this because it says something he likes about his cold blues and his dark roots?– _

He reaches for the lighter but she shakes her head and pulls her hand slightly back. “I don’t want you touching it. You’ll get it dirty.”

– _ and he should feel insulted by this, but it is somehow the most honest thing anybody’s said to him today and– _

He snorts. That snort turns into a chuckle and, luckily, he manages to stifle it before he doubles over in hysteria. The girl’s eyeing him like she’s regretting offering him that lighter, though, which is  _ not  _ helping, but it does serve, at least, to motivate him to try harder at controlling himself. 

“Okay,” he says, taking a cigarette out of his pack. “Sorry, it’s been a really long day.”

– _ and that is also quite possibly the most honest thing he’s said to anybody today– _

“Yes,” she says, and he glances up at her, surprised _.  _ She averts her face slightly to the side, taking another drag while pressing on the lighter in her other hand, getting the flame to come to life. “The set  _ did  _ go over time.”

_ –ah, so he hadn’t imagined her glancing at that red-head and her boyfriend across the bar when they’d played the third encore of the last song, the one Rose had written for Juleka– _

“I see,” he says and finally, he does.

Luka feels a bit daring, then, and puts the cigarette between his lips before leaning into the flame. He can sense her – Chloé, yes, that was the name Marinette had said that one time –

_ –no, no, don’t think about  _ **_those_ ** _ ocean eyes– _

–he can sense her turning to stare at him again. He straightens up and takes a step back before inhaling and exhaling for the first time (he doesn’t want to blow smoke into her face,  _ who knows what kind of crime he could be imprisoned for then– _ ) and her gaze moves to follow him.

And so they stand there, looking at each other, and it’s surreal but also not. She pockets the lighter, but her cigarette continues to hover in mid-air. He takes another drag out of his. 

Her eyes flicker to his chest, pause, blink. “Is that jacket a Dupain-Cheng?” she asks, neutrally, as if talking about a brand she has no opinion of–

– _ and maybe Marinette was wrong about how much she actually hated her, but– _

“It is,” he says, and he can feel his voice break a little. Her face seems to soften ever so slightly and she raises her hand to inhale in a manner suggesting she wants to hide behind more smoke. Luka tries not to grit his teeth _.  _ “Do you mind me sharing that wall with you?” he gestures towards her left.

She purses her lips, but her hand comes down. The left one is supporting it under the elbow now. “Fine,” she says, and he moves to lean against the spot beside her.

They spend some minutes in silence like this, with smoke in their lungs and above their heads, dimming the stars, the noise of the bar playlist seemingly muted. The doors open, suddenly, and Luka glances at them only to find the red-head on her boyfriend’s arm–

– _ and he refuses to look at Chloé at this; she deserves whatever privacy she can get– _

–and then Marinette emerges holding onto  _ Adrien’s arm  _ and–

“How do you do it?” Chloé mutters. He snaps his eyes onto hers and finds the same sort of desperation he’d seen in the mirror that morning, the domino effect (he now realises) of his mother having sat him and Juleka down to tell them the news from the hospital where his grandfather is –  _ was –  _ staying _ – _

She continues as if she can’t see the metaphorical water filling the metaphorical boat with metaphorical holes they’re both  _ metaphorically  _ standing in. “Much as I’m not...much as these people aren’t my friends, I do hear things. And I do have eyes,” she adds as if they’re not the starkest, coldest blue out there. 

_ –B minor, if that– _

She worries her lip and he feels the urge to mimic her, but stifles it as she continues: “You and Dupain-Cheng...how do you stand it? How do you...how do you get over it?”

– _ and he wants to ask her about Adrien because Marinette has, by contrast, told him of her specifically, but he can see this isn’t the child the former had described, the one desperate not to lose its favourite – really, its only – toy; no, it’s the person who’s suddenly lost their anchor while at sea, and he doesn’t mean to slip into the second person but– _

“With practice,” he says, hoping she’ll understand. “Some days are easier than others. You don’t really have much of a choice in these matters, though, so you handle it the only way you can.”

Chloé crushes her cigarette against the wall and drops it to the ground, freeing her hands to rummage through her bag. “What, with  _ silence _ ?” she says, voice strained. A packet of tissues appears in her hands and she wrenches one out and starts furiously dabbing at her eyes.

Luka pretends not to see that. “Yes,” he says, forcing his voice to come out as calm as he’s told it usually is. “Unless you prefer  _ distance _ , but that only works as an all-or-nothing solution.” 

_ –and it hurts for a long, long time before it actually properly heals you – _

She scoffs through a sniffle; he finds the venom she manages to inject in it impressive, given the circumstances. “No, thank you,” she says, visibly trying (and failing) to keep the tremor out of her voice.

_ –and that’s just one more reason he wishes he weren’t at the end of his line himself with these things, isn’t it?– _

She wipes the last of her tears away and immediately pulls out another tissue along with a small bottle of what looks to be micellar water from her bag, setting to work on removing the smudged mascara and washed-out  _ fond de teint.  _

“There’s a little bit under your chin,” Luka says once the other tissue leaves her face. She shoots him a scowl but swipes towards her throat again. “Did I get it?” she asks, voice slightly rough.

“Yes,” he replies and she nods brusquely (he appreciates the gratitude nonetheless) before moving to pick up her cigarette from the ground. She throws it with the tissues in a nearby trashcan and comes back to lean on the wall again.

_ –and it’s a way out not taken, and what was that poem about diverging paths– _

She reaches for the pocket where she’d left her cigarette pack; stops, as if considering, then says:

“My ass is going to freeze off in this weather and I need another drink. Come on.”

_ –and her eyes look brighter despite not being contrasted by the dark of her eyeliner anymore– _

“Okay,” she’s already moving towards the bar and he’s already following her, but he voices an acceptance of the unspoken invitation nonetheless because he can–

– _ or because you never know what might make all the difference. _

**Author's Note:**

> And, of course, credit must be given [where it is due.](https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/44272/the-road-not-taken)
> 
> This is not part of [my post-NYC-special series](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1953754) because it falls outside the 'Love Square is not actually canon' convention, and also because the angst actually has a happy ending. Also, it was not supposed to be written today. I just...needed to write something.
> 
> I'm looking forward to any feedback you may have for this, whether you give it here or reach out to me on [Tumblr](https://noirshitsuji.tumblr.com/). If anybody has any idea what the dude who was flirting with Sabrina in the special was called, I'd be happy to correct the tag (I'm envisioning the same person, with this probably taking place sometime in the future when he's visiting).


End file.
